Standing Upside Down
by Cypraeidae
Summary: We’ve never really talked. We’ve never really needed to. We probably never will. But we’re two of a kind.


* * *

A/n – not my characters, but my story… this is actually my only story, written about three years ago, which I just dusted off and overhauled and am posting here, for the first time. 

I do hope you enjoy.

**Standing Upside Down**

_o o o_

_I'm not freezing, but my nose feels raw and my cheeks are numb. _

_I wish the car had heat, but I'm not surprised it doesn't. This is the first time it's been driven in… probably several years. A frozen January night._

_I sink into my jacket and pull the hood strings tight, so only my eyes are showing. If Heero notices, he doesn't say anything. Now comfortable, I watch the midnight country slide by through the window._

_o o o  
_

I don't know much about Heero. 

Six years of life and I've never really gotten to know him. We're both pretty solitary people.

Of course I have heard of his days as a soldier, the "Perfect Soldier". He was among the best and the brightest, and from what I understand, was one of the most instrumental figures in bringing the AC wars to an end. He worked for the preventers after the war, and traveled… but that was all before my time.

I have very few memories of that side of Heero. His tremendous energy and drive to do good was soured when he got very sick two years ago, with something called cancer. I don't think he wanted anyone to know, but his employers found out. And, of course, I did too. I notice a lot more than most kids.

He never told my mom. By that point, she didn't have the time to notice.

I'd never heard or asked about mom's real job (other than "foreign minister") or much about her history. All I knew was that I loved her, and she was always around in my early life. I have very vague memories of the dinner parties she hosted… I remember swirling colors and gold trim, accompanied by soft music and laughter. A low, smoky voice would tell wonderful stories, and my mother always insisted on dancing.

But those times were early in my life, and few. Long before Heero became so ill, my mother left for the first time, on a trip that lasted several days. I missed her terribly. No doting babysitter could pacify me until she returned. I cried when she came home, and begged her to promise that she would never leave again. She laughed her beautiful laugh and held me, but never said the words.

After that first trip, she went away often, to places all over the earth sphere, and her trips became longer and longer. It slowly became more unusual for her to be home, until, eventually, it turned into a very rare occasion. For a long time I felt lonely and betrayed, but I ultimately accepted the fact that she wouldn't be around much any more.

So it happened that she wasn't around to see as Heero became thinner and slower and more steadily withdrawn. He was demoted from the line of active duty to doing computer work, and then, about six months ago, completely cut off from employment. He shut himself off from the world, and the only times I saw him were when my mom was home. He'd hold her as they sat on the couch, watching the fire and talking.

I remember liking the crackle of cedar logs, the warm, brambly fire smell, and falling asleep to the soft exchange of baritone and alto.

_o o o _

_I'm quite content here, looking out the window as we make our way further and further from the city. I have a few memories of being away from home, but they are all from very long ago. Some are saturated in greens and yellows, some are snowy, some are wet. A particularly vivid one is of my mom beating a spider to pulp with her shoe, and laughing when she knocked the lemonade all over herself and our picnic blanket in the process. _

_It's hard to believe that that warm, hazy summer land is the same blue-black country Heero and I are now passing._

_o o o_

About a year ago, I went to school for three of the most absurd days of my life. The first day was so frustrating and idiotic that I sat in the library for the next two days, and after that, stayed home. Since Heero still went into the agency all day and mom was always away, neither of them knew. I hacked into the school computer system and just deleted myself. And that ended that. Whenever mom called, I made up some story about finger painting or playing house or some other pointless activity. I don't know if she bought it, but she at least didn't pry. She knew I had become a loner, like Heero. 

My days soon became a kind of routine. I'd read technical manuals and online forums all day, or dribble my soccer ball outside. Sometimes I'd swing around on the jungle gym at the park or take things apart and rebuild them. When I got hungry I'd dig into a packet of pre-made military rations, usually chicken or lasagna. I had no one to talk to or answer to, and liked it fine.

By the time Heero was sent home for good on account of his sickness, I was so well accustomed to being alone that I actually avoided him.

I still missed mom, and I knew that she regretted her long absences. It was easy to tell by how lost she looked whenever she had to leave. Heero, also, wanted her to stay. He was always very concerned about her when they weren't together.

"Yes Heero, but I can't," mom said before she left on her most recent trip, sounding very worn and tired, but patient. "My leaving now would only cause this battle to last longer. As soon as this threat is under control, I promise you I'll retire so we can be together. And I know that letting you obliterate them all would be effective, but I think it's inhumane. There is always a better way to resolve these things."

She rested her head on his shoulder as he held her in his increasingly thin arms. I watched them stand like that for several minutes, and caught one of mom's suitcases that was about to fall over. She smiled and gave me a hug before carrying her things to the car waiting out front.

No more words were said, and life carried on.

_o o o_

_There's no moon out, but as usual there is too much light and haze from the city to see past the black blanket above. On especially clear nights, though, I've seen the stars before. It's hard to look directly at them; focusing on one makes it disappear somehow. I can't imagine how writers could make something so frustrating into something so romantic._

_I find the darkness that surrounds us beautiful. Just very, very cold._

_o o o_

Two days after my mom left for outer space, we received a call. The caller's face was blocked on the vidscreen and he never stated his name, but I think Heero knew him. The message was urgent, the man was coming to our house. Heero slowly lifted himself out of bed and got dressed for the first time since mom left. The strain of seeming strong for my mother wore on him more and more, every time they were together. Evidently, though, this visitor deserved attention. Heero made his way to the door, leaning heavily on furniture for support. I hid behind the couch to listen. 

Then the man came, covered in a grey coat that revealed only a strand of long silver-grey hair and the toes of his shiny formal boots. Heero was intent on this tall person with his familiar, smoky voice.

I only vaguely remember their hasty words: ...ambushed…they took her…desperate move…she's been…come get you as soon as I possibly could…

But I clearly remember Heero's eyes snap open, his blank face, and his white fists.

Within a minute the two men were gone.

For the next several days I continued on as usual, immersed myself in books and my soccer ball, and didn't really stay in tune with the news. Being alone didn't bother me, but I did wish mom would call. I hadn't heard from her since she left.

_o o o_

_I doze off, and when I am jolted awake we are inside a forest. There is no sky or ground, just wood and fir trees and our quiet, bumpy road. I am mesmerized by how our headlights make everything sparkle. _

_As the trees blur from my breath on the glass, I wonder if Heero is thinking about the last few months, too._

_o o o_ _  
_

He came home three weeks later. I sat perfectly still in the couch chair with my book when he came in the door, and watched him make his way to the bedroom. He could walk easily, but was thin, and bent, and his eyes had gone dull, like holes in his head. 

Later that day, I first started seeing the headlines, and hearing the broadcasts. "Threat Annihilated" "Terrorists Obliterated by Mysterious Fighter" and "Our Beloved Queen May Rest in Peace." Apparently, a terrorist organization had been completely wiped out, with no survivors and no clues as to who did it. The reports emphasized that the destruction of the terrorists was fair punishment for their recent torture and murder of someone's queen.

The clatter died down in a few days, however, and the mysterious justice fighter was never found.

I didn't see Heero again after he returned. He never left that room; if he ate or drank I never noticed. A woman came by the next day with her two grown children, and they were all dressed in black. I dimly recognized her face, and her tall frame with black hair that hung over one eye. She talked to Heero in his room for a long time, trying to convince him to come somewhere with her. Eventually the three left without him.

It was so quiet around the house, like always. But this quiet held a foreboding stillness that left me on edge. Heero never even opened his door… Mom would make him come out, I knew, whenever she got home. I wished she'd at least call. She usually did.

_o o o_

_Heero finally stops the car at the end of a long dirt road. We get out, and he grabs a backpack and a flashlight. He takes my mittened hand and leads me into the crackling, frozen darkness. I can tell that it will be a long walk, but that doesn't bother me. Heero makes good company. _

_It is easy to be silent with him._

_o o o_ _  
_

Late one rainy night, many grey weeks later, I finally heard Heero moving around, and opening the door for a stranger. Peeking around the doorway, I saw that the new man had long brown hair tucked down the collar of his jacket and bright violet eyes. Heero looked horrible, with wrinkled pants, matted hair, and a graying swath of beard on his face. 

I crept out of my room and crouched by the railing of the stairs. What made him move, after so long? Who would he let into our house so late?

I could faintly hear him and the other man talking in the living room, their low voices a tense, rolling hum. I crept further down the stairs and listened intently. I am a good listener.

"…nothing that any of us could do, and you know better than to think we didn't try our damned hardest…" came the stranger's voice, rising.

Heero interrupted with something that I couldn't hear. He must have been facing away from the door.

"Listen to me, dammit! Stop living in the past. Stop hating yourself. You had no control, Heero. Damn! How I wish I could have come here sooner. Look at you! You have a brilliant son upstairs, in case you've forgotten. He needs you. You have a responsibility to him, and to her…"

Immediately came a resounding crash that shook the walls and made me jump. Heero's voice rose hoarsely, bitterly, "This body won't let me keep the promises I've made! I'm the one dying in a warm bed while her blood has been scattered through space! Damn them! She was never…"

He stopped abruptly. For a while, there was silence.

"I'm sorry, old buddy," came the new voice again, very quietly.

"You know as well as I do that those feelings only lead to greater pain," he continued, in sympathy. "You're no longer dying, thank your body for that. And you've destroyed everyone responsible. Let it be. Just remember her. Remember her for the boy."

The two men sat, without saying a word, for a long time.

My brain was spaghetti. I wanted so badly to understand it all, the depth of their emotion and this stranger whose advice Heero took.

Heero eventually walked the man to the door, and they paused for a last word. I crept to the bottom of the stairs and into the room, where I could see Heero's back as he leaned weakly on the door frame, his head hung low, surrounded by the black shimmer of freezing rain outside.

"Look, man. If you ever need to… get away, I guess, you both are always welcome with Hilde and me," came the other voice from outside. "I just want to make sure you know that."

"Thank you," Heero replied softly.

He closed the door and locked it, and made his way back to the living room to sink into the couch. His head dropped into his hands and he stayed there, thinking and breathing.

So many questions whirled in my head, but there was only one that I had to have an answer to.

"Heero?" I ventured into the silence.

His head jolted up, and we looked at each other. I hadn't talked to him directly in almost two years. He seemed to realize something that made his brow tighten with displeasure. My voice shook.

"When will momma come home?"

His stone face seemed to dissolve, like a sand castle left in the sun for too long. He looked at me openly. I had never seen someone look so lost.

He reached his arm out to me, and I looked at his hand. It was shaking. When I hesitated, he leaned forward and gathered me into his arms. He held me on his lap. I was nervous being so close to him, but the fact that he hadn't answered my question was scarier. I hugged him back.

I could feel his breathing become erratic, silent sobs that never found outlet in tears. We sat like that for a long time. Eventually I came to realize that my mother was not coming back. I didn't cry, but the pain I felt then was only a fraction of what I feel now.

_o o o_

_My sweater is scratching my neck, but I can't fix it as I am, in mittens and a hooded jacket. I decide that it is better to be warm and scratched than cold and… probably still scratched. Heero continues holding my hand as we continue our journey. Every once in a while, he'll take both of my hands and swing me over a ditch, or a log. Without a word, he is telling me that he understands my weariness and is trying to help me along. But his breathing is just as labored as mine, and his feet drag the ground, too. _

_This velvety darkness is something I've never seen before, it is cold, yet welcoming. I decide that I like the forest. I'm quite happy with Heero. This is the first time in a long while._

_o o o_ _  
_

I realized in the morning, when I woke up on the couch, that I dozed off on his lap that night. 

He locked himself in my parents' room again, and barring a peek through the door when a funny-looking doctor came three days later, I never saw him. From what I did see, though, he had cleaned himself up. I figured that was a good sign. The doctor looked very pleased when he left, too. I briefly wondered if Heero could be recovering…

But decided that even if his body healed, his heart would take much longer.

I sat around most of the time, too miserable to do anything. Sometimes I took walks around or half-heartedly kicked at my soccer ball in the yard, but it had gotten too cold to spend a long time out. So I usually sat and stared at the grey sky or at pictures of my mother.

My beautiful mother. Relena.

I thought about every memory I had of her: her soft hands and quiet lullabies as she sang me to sleep, her long, exquisite dresses, her favorite mug of tea, and how her eyelashes sparkled when we were swimming. With these memories came memories of Heero, and how happy they were together. It surprised me, to find I had so many memories of how kind he had been, how easy to smile and eager to dance with my mom. I had all but forgotten. I wanted to be with that man again.

Sometimes I still catch myself wondering when mom will call, and there are moments when I think how happy I'll be when she comes home. Every time this happens, I have to relive the realization that she won't ever come back in my life, and every time it hits me like a wrench in the stomach. I think about her so much that I dream about her, too, and sometimes I catch myself remembering a dream instead of the reality. Already it's become hard to draw up a clear image of her in my mind.

I still can't believe that I'll never see her again.

I've come to understand why Heero had no desire to get out of bed every day. That's why it surprised me so much when I heard him knock and open my bedroom door earlier this evening. He came in awkwardly, gaunt and greyed to the point that I barely recognized him. I don't imagine I looked much better.

His gaze drifted around the room, at my clothes on the floor and the scattered packets of half-eaten food. I'm sure his room looked exactly the same way.

"Getting out would do us good," he said gruffly, his eyes still on the floor.

"Yeah."

So we raided the coat closet and bundled up, and Heero stuffed a blanket and flashlight into a backpack. I waited in the kitchen while he muttered curses and slowly moved to check the battery of our poor abandoned car.

Then we started driving.

This journey itself has already made our night worthwhile, but that doesn't mean I want it to end quite yet.

_o o o_

"_We're close, now," Heero says._

_He turns off the flashlight, and we stop for a second to adjust to the dark. As we stand, the black clouds in my eyes eventually clear and I can see a very faint glow filtered through the treetops ahead of us. Heero pockets the flashlight and lifts me up on his shoulders, since the bush branches and bramble have become too thick for me to walk through._

_Though I'm light for my age, I can tell that he is straining to stand upright as he slowly continues walking. He seems determined, though, so I'm quiet. _

"_Close your eyes," he says. I do._

_I can feel us move forward and hear the crackle of his boots crushing pinecones and brittle twigs. I can faintly make out the smell of evergreen in my cold nose. Eventually the crunching stops and I hear a crinkly shushing sound instead. I'm surprised, and open my eyes…_

We are standing upside down in a black velvet bowl of diamonds.

I can't even begin to describe its magnificence. The cold is forgotten as my head falls back in awe.

Heero stops moving when he feels the breath leave my body. I can't take my eyes from the sky. He taps my leg to let me know to climb down, and I stumble off his shoulders in numb haste, wanting only to look up again.

My head is tilted all the way back and my lungs fill with cold air, but I am awestruck. Are these the same faint spots I've seen through the clouds in the city? After while I notice the faint lightness of the horizon all around, and I notice that we're standing almost at the edge of a cliff, in a clearing of long, dry grass that has matted down with the ice and weather. Looking out from the cliff, there is inky black forest and the twinkle of a city far away.

And stars, all around. Stars like I never dreamed possible.

They seem so close here.

There is nothing between us but the frozen air.

Behind me, Heero is standing inhumanly still, as still as the steady, silent trees behind us.

"Relena loved the stars," He says quietly after while.

I turn to look at him.

"She loved their stability and their patience, and she loved feeling like a speck in the grand waltz of time. It calmed her when anything got out of hand. She and I used to come here, together, whenever we could steal a moment... but we never came here enough. Places like this are rare on earth, but they are the closest to outer space that you and I can come right now."

My eyes unfocus as I absorb what he says. It feels so right, knowing that my mom loved the stars too.

"It was a hard choice for her and me to live permanently on earth," Heero continues, "and we never regretted it. But we both always missed the stars."

I look back into the sky. She's out there, forever. He didn't have to say it.

He rustles in his pack and grabs a thick blanket. He spreads it on the ground and pulls me to his side as we lay down on our backs. We lay there, lost in the perfect, still beauty. Heero looks up, same as me. But I know he isn't silent from wonder, as I am.

I know he can see my mom.

_o o o_

The crystal clear stars become my mother's long, sparkling lashes as she grins before splashing me. She smiles, her teeth twinkle. She flips her long hair from the water and showers everything with tiny, infinite, radiant droplets. I laugh as Heero wades silently up behind her with a smirk and sparkle in his eye. He startles her, beginning a huge splashing fight which mom and I decidedly win.

She is wrapping a towel around me and kisses my forehead, and proceeds to make a mohawk of my wet hair, and she is laughing. And Heero is smiling with his eyes full of love, and takes her wet hand and his other hand finds its way to her waist and before she knows it they are circling around and around, dancing.

_o o o o o o o o o_

_o o o_

_o o o o o o o o o_

We're sitting in the long rectangle of warm August sunlight cast through the terminal window, waiting for our shuttle to take off. I have a bag of clothes and some books, and a brand new soccer ball held between my ankles. Heero sits on the bench next to me, elbows braced on his knees as he types away on some button-covered device held in one hand.

I hear the human murmur of people filing by and the steady tapping of Heero's fingers on the keyboard, and I find myself thinking about the last eight months since that midnight drive.

_o o o_

Heero and I stayed on the cliff all night. I forgot about my nose, my cheeks, and the itching of my sweater neck. I fell asleep and dreamed about mom. Good dreams full of honest, happy memories without any pain from disillusion. Heero shook me awake a few hours later so we could make our way back home.

The next morning, in fact, he woke me up with a panful of splattered pancakes, and we ate breakfast together. We both desperately needed a good meal, and eating together became habit. I began sitting in the room with him when I read, and every once in a while he'd come play soccer with me. Over time, he became stronger, and one day, about two months later, he went back to work. He didn't go on any more missions, but worked at home on the computer or went in to his agency to give tactical advice and other sorts of consulting. He must be a genius, judging by how much respect and deference people show him.

People began coming to our house again, usually Heero's colleagues from work. One or two came every few nights. They'd fix drinks and talk into the night.

In this way, I met many faces I dimly remembered from my mother's parties, including a tall, softly-spoken man with green eyes whom I liked a lot, and a sharp-featured Chinese man who magisterially produced a pair of swords, and spent the evening teaching me basic swordplay as Miss Sally and Heero watched, Heero twitching his fingers as if he might like to join in.

I never again saw the regal silver-haired man who came to our house so long ago. His picture, in majestic uniform, turned up on our mantle. I sometimes found Heero dusting it off; it is the only picture he keeps clean other than those of my mom. Someday I'll ask who that man was, and why he's gone. But not today.

I'm glad to say that the violet-eyed man was one of the first to start coming over in the evenings, and it turns out his name is Duo. He is another old friend of Heero's. He's been over several times, and he brought his wife and almost-grown daughter from the colonies to visit last month. Duo and Ms. Hilde share an infectious sense of humor that left me with a constant stitch in my side from laughter. They could even make Heero smile.

One afternoon during their visit, Ms. Hilde came into the room where Heero, Duo and I were reading various things in various chairs. She looked pointedly from me to Heero and around the room, gazing at the pink, tastefully flowered throw pillows and my mother's lamps and statuettes.

"So, Heero," she said, "how much longer are you going to stay here?"

His head jolted up and he scowled at her for a minute, then he looked away. She started picking up pillows and stacking them on the other end of the couch from where Duo was sitting. Heero was staring at the coral tasseled lamp next to him.

"You know she's right," Duo said. He scratched his head with his pen. "And I'd say it's about time this one started school again," he motioned towards me with his chin as he spoke. He winked at me. "Not that I don't think you'll be able to support yourself with a soccer career, but there's a hell of a lot more you can learn at the school we've got in the colony."

I was interested. After the initial shocked silence, Heero was too. Ms. Hilde mentioned that a house down the street from them had recently gone up for sale, and Heero slowly started asking questions. Yes, the house was close to the colony's preventer station, where he could do consulting work through direct lines. No, the house wasn't crowded around by other houses. It actually had a big yard, and backed up against the local soccer fields.

The Maxwells' daughter came in while they were talking, and she started telling me about the school – where I could take classes as advanced as I need, surrounded by exemplary students and taught by the best professionals who found their skills less necessary after the wars ended twenty years ago. She was about to graduate, but wanted to stick around and assist at the space flight school. The colony had an enormous flight base, where citizens could dock their own spacecraft and leave the colony whenever they liked.

At that, she gave me a smirk. "I'd like to see my dad and Heero take each other on in one of the space flight tournaments… I've seen dad jet around in a suit once or twice, and he certainly brags enough about his piloting skills… but yours would give him a run for his money. That I'd pay to see!"

I was fascinated… could I learn to fly, too? Like Heero? We noticed that the adults had gone quiet and were listening to the tail end of our conversation, Duo grinning sideways at Heero and Heero regarding me with his arms crossed.

He must have understood the look on my face.

"I can teach you," he said, and turned to Duo.

"We're coming."

_o o o_

Plans were pretty much set by the time I went to bed that night. It took me a long time to fall asleep, and as I lay there I wondered if leaving this house would be leaving my mother behind, as well.

Heero made arrangements to continue his work from the colony, and we spent the last few weeks packing our things. I mostly stacked books up to be boxed, and spent a whole day wrapping dishes in newspaper. Heero cleared out a room to store the furniture we were taking, and gave away the rest. As he was separating things into his save pile, I often found him with a figurine or photograph in his hand, staring at it in perfect stillness. After the first few times, I started coming up with questions to ask him, to make him forget whatever he was thinking and carry on. He seemed to wake up a little more every time I did it, and before long we worked side by side as he went through each room, without any time to be distracted by grief.

I like to think that staying busy was helpful. I hope all of his memories are safely stored away, where he will be able to think back on them in the future, and they won't cause him pain.

Last night we went to a going-away dinner with a big group of his old comrades who live on earth, and everyone had some cheerful memory of my mother to share. That dinner was a celebration of her life. I had never heard so much about her; what she was like when she was young or pregnant with me. I greatly enjoyed the frustrating, romantic, and suspensefully convoluted story of how my parents finally admitted their love after almost fifteen years, told in pieces by everyone at the party. It was magnificent.

I know everyone had a wonderful time, and I left with nothing but happy thoughts about mom. Heero seemed happy, too, in his own quiet way. And that made the night perfect.

But now, the shuttle's boarding. We have to go.

_o o o_

"Look," Heero whispers, close to my ear. Without another word, we look out the shuttle window to watch the sun round the earth in a brilliant flash and spread of light.

After while, I tear my eyes from the window and gaze at the profile of the great man sitting beside me. His hair is graying, and his lean face shows fine lines beside his eyes, but more between them where he scowls. I am sad to think that he has scowled much more than he has laughed, in life. It is a sign of loneliness, but also a sign of strength. He has needed that strength to be a part of reordering our world, in a way noone else could have done. And he has needed that strength to move on, when he still so deeply loves my mother. I will always believe it was that night, under the stars, that reminded him of what she would have wanted: for him to keep on living, for me.

We've never really talked. We've never really needed to. We probably never will.

But we're two of a kind.

"I'm glad you're my dad, Heero," I tell him.

He looks down at me for a long time, and smiles. He pulls me into his lap and lays his cheek on my head. I close my eyes against his chest. His breathing is shallow, almost still. But I know he is watching the sun rise. Its light is warm on my face.

And somehow, it reminds me of my mom. Relena. As if she is here, I feel her smile in the sunlight.

I wrap my arms around my dad's neck and drift asleep, to be woken when we reach our new home.

_o o o_

_o_

_o o o o o o o o  
_

Finish


End file.
